Someone Like Me
by twilightladies
Summary: "The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living." – Marcus Tullius Cicero
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Someone Like Me**

 **Summary:** "The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living." – Marcus Tullius Cicero

 **Prologue**

" _I thought it would be nice if we got to know each other." He smiles nervously, gripping his coffee. "You know instead of just 'hi' here and there."_

 _I nod. "I agree."_

 _Silence fall between us, and I'm at a loss of things to say to him. Do we talk about why we visit so much? Who we're visiting? Or is that too personal so soon?_

 _Or is it perfect for us?_

 _He decides for me. "I come to visit my sister."_

 _My gaze meets his, and I'm met with the same grief deep in his eyes that I see in my own every time I look in the mirror. "I'm sorry."_

" _I come to visit my parents." I take a deep breath, willing the tears away. They fall anyway._

 _His face softens. Normally I hate the look people give me when I tell them. All the 'I'm sorries,' or 'I understand what you're going through.' They don't, and I hate that they think they do. It's nothing but pity; I don't need it and I don't want it._

 _But with Edward it's different. He understands._

" _Was it sudden?" he asks, and I nod._

" _Alice too. Sometimes I still can't believe she's gone. We were arguing—I can't even remember what about really, something stupid I think." He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. "She stormed out. An hour later I received a visit from the police—she'd skidded through a red light."_

 _I gasp, leaning back in my seat. "She died in a car accident?"_

 _He scrunches his eyes closed. "Yes," he whispers. "Ten years ago tonight."_

 _xXx_

 _Thanks to Iris, MidnightCougar and SparklyMeg for their help. Always._

 _Thanks to TLS for featuring me on this week's Sneak Peek!_

 _And thank you for reading!_

 _See you next Sunday! xox_

 _ **Fic Rec:**_

 _ **Glimmer Darkly by Rochelle Allison**_ _– She loses him almost as soon as she finds him… but things aren't always what they seem. Will Bella follow her heart down the rabbit hole? AU-ish.  
_ _ **  
**_ _Rochelle is one of my fav authors – HATE that I've only found this story a few weeks ago!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much to all the alerts/favourites/reviews from last week. Absolutely blown away by your support!**

 **All the hugs and wine go to SparklyMeg, Iris and MidightCougar for their help with this.**

 **So as you've guessed this will be a lil bit bumpy. Let's see how bumpy it's gonna be for them…**

 **Chapter 1**

 _ **10 years earlier...**_

 _ **Her POV**_

The rain falls in sheets so fast that when you first glance at it, it's like a blur. The odd crack of lightning flashes through the sky, disappearing as fast as it arrived. The weather's turned the night from easygoing to treacherous. I make a mad dash from my car to the house, knowing I'm gonna get soaked anyway, no matter how fast I run. Normally, I'd be grateful for the rain and the brief spell of cool air it brings with it.

Just not on the night I'd plans to go to a bonfire on the beach.

Inside, I slam the door behind me and turn on the light. It flickers, and I wonder how long I have before the power goes out completely.

"Mom? Dad?" Nothing but silence answers me as I head upstairs to my room to change. They'd mentioned they might go out for dinner, but I assumed the weather would've put them off.

I strip, throwing my soaked clothes into a pile on the floor and changing into my favorite sweats and t-shirt.

On my way back downstairs, because the darkness is making my stomach churn, I turn on all the lights. Dread settles deep in my stomach, making me feel like something isn't right, like that feeling when you're uneasy and you don't know why. Butterflies, but not the excited kind; the kind that make you want to throw up, and nothing will seem to settle them.

Like a child, I check every empty room, behind the shower curtain, and under the kitchen table. I check that the doors are locked, close the curtains, and flop onto the couch, flicking through the channels before settling on _The Goonies._ Perfect rainy day material.

Not long into the film, three sharp, loud knocks on the front door echo throughout the house. The abrupt noise goes straight through me, making me shiver. It's that feeling of dread again.

Knowing whoever is at my door in this weather can't be bringing good news.

 _Knock._

 _Knock._

 _Knock._

I get up from the sofa in a daze. I can feel my body moving, my limbs going through the motions, but I feel like I'm watching from the outside.

My hand shakes as I reach out for the door handle. I focus, squinting my eyes, trying to make it stop. It doesn't work until I place both hands on the handle. I rest my forehead on the door, take a deep breath, and then look through the peephole as I've always been taught—or maybe it's my way of prolonging some kind of inevitable—but all I see is a blurry image.

When I open the door and see my dad's deputy standing in front of me with his hat off, covering his chest and with a sympathetic, heartbroken look on his face, my world goes black.

**SLM**

"Bella? Bella, honey?" There's something cold on my forehead, and a soothing voice slowly wakes me. I blink a few times, and the blurry face coming into focus. I'm on my back on the sofa, its throw covering my legs.

The familiar face smiles softly, dabbing again at my forehead. "Hey, sweetie."

"Kate? What…? What's going on? Why are you here?" I quickly glance around the room. "What's Garrett doing here? Where's my dad?" My voice gets higher and higher, the words falling and tumbling from my mouth. "Something's happened, hasn't it? That's why he's here. That's why you're here."

Kate's the secretary at my dad's office and is engaged to Garrett, my dad's deputy sheriff. I've overheard enough stories from my dad to know that this many cops in once place can't be good news.

Kate crouches in front of me. I look down, focusing on how pale her skin is. Smooth. And with perfect red nails. Her voice hums in the background, and I know I should be listening. She's trying to tell me something important.

"You have really pretty nails," I blurt out. The room falls silent, and I can feel everyone's eyes on me.

"Oh. Thanks, Bella." She tilts my head up so I'm looking at her. "Did you hear what I just said to you?"

I shake my head.

"Can I sit here?" She gestures to where my feet are, and I sit up with my feet on the floor. She takes the empty space, facing me and taking my hand in hers.

"I… I'm so sorry, honey." She blinks a few times, as if trying to stop her tears. It doesn't matter, because I can see them anyway. "Your parents… There was an accident. They didn't make it." She chokes on the last word, tears spilling over while her words hit me like a wrecking ball.

 _I'm sorry._

 _Accident._

 _Didn't make it._

**SLM**

 _ **His POV**_

"I just need you to cover for me. I'll be back before they are. They won't even know I've gone out."

The condensation falls down the bottle as I bring it to my mouth. It's cool, refreshing, but nowhere near strong enough. I shudder as the liquid slides down my throat. My father may like the best scotch, but his taste in beer is awful.

"Nope."

"You're _such_ a douche. You know they'll be okay if you come with me. Why can't you just help me out for once?"

I roll my eyes at her dramatics as she stomps her feet like the child she's trying to prove she's not.

"I'm not going to some loser high school party just so you can hook up with your guy of the moment." I shake my head. "Seriously, Al. He's a deadbeat loser."

She stomps her foot again, making me smirk. "You don't even know him! And don't laugh at me. It's not fair! They're not letting me go 'cause they think I'll end up a mess like you."

"Wow. Sweet talk. Way to get me to go with you." She huffs and smacks the back of my head as she passes. I leave her to her dramatics, 'cause that's all it ever is.

Moments later, she's back next to me, and the car keys are dangling from her fingers. "I'm going anyway."

"Of course you are." I take another drink.

"I am."

"Okay."

"Well? Aren't you coming?"

"Nope."

"What will you do if they come home and I'm not here?"

"Tell them where you are."

"You wouldn't."

"I would." I turn to face her. "Look, I haven't been home in a while. The weather sucks, so the party will be a total blow out. How about we order in some dinner, throw on a movie, grab our covers, and set up a fort in the living room like we used to? With all that thunder, it's the perfect night for watching a horror movie. It'll be like when we watched them with the lights off as kids."

"You're such a loser, Edward."

I roll my eyes. Was I this dramatic in high school?

"Better a loser than a wannabe."

She huffs and stomps to the door, the keys jingling in her fingers. "If I get in trouble tonight, it's your fault."

Alice leaves, slamming the door behind her, the thud almost echoing in the silence. Guilt flashes through me, though it's gone in the same instant. I'm here to prove how much I've changed to my parents, not to my little sister.

The silence left in her wake feels deafening.

Like it's trying to tell me something.

I sit and watch the door, willing for her to return.

**SLM**

Jacksonville summers are hit or miss. You can have the kind of day that everyone raves about: dry, humid, sunny. Perfect. Or you can have the kind of day we're having: monsoon-style rain, stormy skies, and wind strong enough to knock you off your feet.

The rain batters the front of the house, the noise weirdly soothing as I sit in almost silence in the living room.

 _Pitter-patter._

 _Pitter-patter._

 _Pitter-patter._

The TV provides the only light as it plays in the background; some old sitcom I'm not even paying attention to. Shadows from the screen flicker across the floor as if dancing with the ones on the wall made by the trees outside. The wind's so strong that my mom's favorite tree by the window is almost bent in half.

It covers the window, but one branch already snapped most of the way off. Back and forth… It's like it's waving at me.

Taunting me.

It's daunting.

And for some reason, it makes me feel uneasy.

The lights go off, plunging the room into darkness. My heart pounds as I check my phone, desperate to hear from Alice.

I knew I shouldn't have let her leave. Part of me knows I'm overreacting. As much as she acted like a kid earlier, she's still smart. Nothing will happen, but with the weather acting as bipolar as it is, something _could_ happen.

And it'd be my fault for letting her leave.

Thunder rumbles once, twice, and a third time, almost shaking the house, before lightning flashes through the sky, basking the room with light for mere seconds.

Something outside is knocked over, banging against the front of the house.

 _Bang._

 _Bang._

 _Bang._

It takes me a few minutes to realize the noise is someone knocking on the front door.

**SLM**

The living room is crowded, like my parents have thrown a party, but they're the last to arrive. I don't know anyone here; people I haven't met before and most likely won't meet again. The officer by the door is the most intimidating; tall, looming over his other colleagues, and standing as still as a statue with his arms folded over his chest. The rest of them buzz around like ants, wanting to make sure I'm okay. Can they get me something to drink? Is there anything I want? Do I want them to try my parents again?

I shy away from them all, telling them I'd rather be alone. It's not rude or a lie; it's the truth. They can't drop something like that and expect me to be normal.

Like I haven't just been told my sister's been in a car accident.

Like I haven't been told she's never coming home again.

"Edward, is there anything I can get you?"

The petite blonde hovers as though she's afraid I'm going to do something. I'm not, and her presence pisses me off, but I just have to deal with her until my parents return.

"I'm fine."

 _Liar._

Soon, the lights from parents' car hit the front of the house. Everyone falls silent as I stand and make my way to the front door, with blondie close behind me.

My mom is through the door first, almost unrecognizable. Her normally put-together appearance has fallen apart. Her hair's out from the elegant updo she had, strays whipping around her face in the wind. Her mascara is smudged under her eyes, and her face is the palest I've ever seen it. All traces of her makeup are gone.

"Edward?" My name's a whisper on her lips, and I barely make it to her in time before she crumbles.

I fall with her, both of us dropping to the floor in each other's arms. My dad's close behind, and I feel his arms around me.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

**SLM**

 _ **Thank you for reading! See you next Sunday!**_

 _ **Fic Rec: Kairos by Sparklymeg -**_ _Kairos - from Ancient Greek - the right or opportune moment - the perfect timing. Age is just a number, but timing is everything. Originally written for the May to December Romance Contest_


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to all the alerts/favourites/reviews from last week. Absolutely blown away by your support!**

 **All the hugs and wine go to SparklyMeg, Iris and MidightCougar for their help with this.**

 **Sorry I didn't get to review replies; hubby's shifts changed, my 18 month old has 3 teeth coming through and work kicked my ass. Please know I read all of them and love seeing them pop up in my inbox.**

 **Anyway, you all had a lot of questions, so…**

 **Chapter 2**

 _ **Her POV**_

The day we bury them is the polar opposite of the night they died. The sky's the brightest blue I've ever seen without any clouds. The sun shines high and bright, almost as if it's mocking us. The humidity is at its highest, which makes standing outside in black feel like we're standing in hell.

But that's fine, 'cause I already feel like I'm there.

Crowds gather, making me feel uneasy. I've never understood why people say they're sorry. Why are they sorry? What are they apologizing for? They didn't do anything.

I zone out, merely going through the motions. Before the service I nod my head and thank the other guests, like the dutiful daughter I am, when inside all I want to do is scream.

Instead, I focus on our happier times. Rather than standing in front of their coffins as they're lowered to the ground, I'm at the movies. I can smell the popcorn as my parents argue between salty and sweet, and the way my dad huffed when mom and me outvote him on the romantic comedy against the action movie.

Tears fall and I don't try to stop them this time. I can hear sobbing next to me; my aunty grasps my hand in hers, squeezing it tightly every so often. Friends of my parents line the pews behind us, and my dad's colleagues fill the rest of the space.

People stand at the front reminding us why we're here; to celebrate their lives. I shake my head, why should we celebrate? This isn't their time. They should still be here.

Is this why everyone's sorry?

**SLM**

My aunt — Mom's younger sister — is now my guardian. Something my parents had mentioned when I was younger as a "just in case anything happens," but we never thought it would be put into motion. The last week or so my aunt has stayed with me. As a minor, I had no say in my parents' arrangements, but my aunt wanted my input.

Now, with the funeral over, and as the legalities with the house begin, I'm moving into my aunt's house. My new home.

My feet feel like lead weights as I follow her upstairs into my new room.

"I know it's not much, sweetie. We haven't had much… well… we can get you some things from home…" My aunt almost looks embarrassed as she shows me my room for the first time. I'd known I would be moving here eventually, but I'd stayed at my house until the funeral.

My aunt and uncle don't have a huge house. They got married two years ago and have just moved in, after years of saving. Not long after they moved in, they had Logan. A surprise, but a welcome one. It's the perfect house for a newly married couple; close to the city and the beach. Although, it's not ideal for the teenager they've just gained.

The room I have at Aunt Rose's is small and simple — not really anything like my one at home. It was their spare room, used as a dumping ground — as she calls it. Boxes stand stacked in the corner, waiting to either be thrown out or stored somewhere else. The walls are white, but Aunt Rose has said I can paint them any color I want. Aside from my bed, the only furniture is a nightstand and a chest of drawers.

I put my bag on the floor and sit on the end of the bed. "It's fine, Aunt Rose. It's not as if it was expected."

She comes over and sits next to me. She's still dressed in her black dress from the funeral, although she kicked off her shoes as soon as we came inside. "We'll get through this."

The tears are back, and I shake my head against them. "How…? They're gone."

She wraps her arm around my shoulder. "We'll get through this together. It's what family is for."

"They were _my_ family," I snap, standing up and pacing the room. "And some idiot plowed into the side of them, going so fast that my parents didn't stand a chance. How do we get through this? Or over this? It. Isn't. Fair!" I scream the last words, the tears blurring my vision as I fall to the floor. "It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair."

I fight her as she tries to pull me into her arms, only succumbing when exhaustion takes over. The last week or so finally takes its toll; my eyes feel heavy from crying so much, and my limbs are sore, heavy. Tired.

"C'mon, Bella. You need to get some sleep." I let Aunt Rose help me up and into bed like a child. She takes my shoes off, and pulls up the covers for me to climb under. She sits next to me, stroking my hair like my mom used to until the numbness of sleep, thankfully, takes over.

**SLM**

 _ **His POV**_

The days blur into one another.

People around the house paying their respects, others bringing food, and some just being damn right nosey. I can see it in their faces, they really do feel sorry, but they want to know what happened. Why was she alone? Why was she out?

Why did I let her go?

They may not say it, but their looks say it all.

When the day arrives, it moves in slow motion. The sun sits high in the sky, but when it's time, it's merely a dull, orange glow filtering through the room just missing out on the back corners.

I watch my mom as she paces.

 _Back._

 _Forth._

 _Back._

 _Forth._

"The cars are here." My father's voice is low. Dull. Void of any emotion. He glances at me briefly before looking back out the window into the distance. I wonder if he sees what's in front of him, or if he's thinking of something else.

Of her.

My mom appears next to me and takes my hand in hers. "We should leave."

I hate what this is doing to her, and that I'm the cause. In less than a week she's lost weight; her cheeks gaunt and clothes hanging from her. Today, she's looking nothing short of her best, but I can see the differences.

We walk to the cars together, sliding into the first one. My eyes fall to the hearse at the front, and I can already feel everything begin to crumble.

She's in there; too messed up for us to even have an open casket service like my parents wanted. I don't get to see her one last time. I don't get to ruffle her hair the way she always hated.

"We can do this." My mom squeezes my hand, making me look down. "Edward, I need you today."

I nod. "I'm here, Mom."

She smiles sadly, the tears forming, and I wonder just how the hell I'm going to make it through today.

How I'm supposed to stand next to my mom and dad as we bury my sister, knowing it's all my fault.

**SLM**

The cars move slowly through town, some pausing on the sidewalk to pay their respects. I chuckle lightly, thinking how much Alice would love all this attention.

"You're thinking how much she'd be enjoying this attention," my mom murmurs.

I smile wistfully, looking down at our joined hands. She grasps one of my hands with one of hers. before taking my father's with her free one.

"She would, of course. She always loved to be the center of attention. It's only right all eyes are on her today."

I sigh, looking out the window, almost doing a double take when I see a two hearses pass in the opposite direction, followed by one family car. Flowers surround the coffins, a bright display of blues, reds, and yellows, and I can only just make out the words _Mom_ and _Dad_ before the cars pass us completely.

I can't help but feel slightly bitter as the cars disappear into the distance. That family got to watch their parents grow old. They got to enjoy life with them, not like us. It doesn't make the pain any less, but it has to make it easier; knowing they enjoyed a full life.

Theirs wasn't snatched away from them like Alice's.

**SLM**

"Edward? What're you doing in here?"

I shrug. "Thinking." After we said goodbye to Alice, I felt stuck in limbo. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I couldn't sit in silence with my parents. Instead, I find myself sitting on the floor in Alice's room with my back against her bed. It's still the same as she left it; bed half made, clothes in a pile on the floor, more clothes hanging over her chair, and some makeup on the dresser. We haven't been able to think about moving anything, never mind actually going through with it.

"About Alice?"

I nod. "Yeah… about Alice. And about that night."

In a very un-mom like move, she sits next to me, crossing her legs underneath her. Gone is the black suit from today, having been replaced with an old college sweatshirt and pair of ratty jeans. Her face is makeup free — not that there was any left following the ceremony — and her hair pulled back in a bun.

"Why?"

"I keep replaying it over in my head. If there was something different I could have done—" I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and resting my head in my hands.

"Don't." She places her head on my shoulder. "We all know how she could be."

"But if I'd stopped her—"

"No. Edward, this isn't your fault."

I blink back tears; the first tears I've shed since the police arrived at our door a week ago. And once they start I struggle to stop them.

"But…Mom…"

Sobs rack my body and my mom pulls me into her arms. I want to fight her; she shouldn't be consoling me. It should be the other way around. But I can't — I need my mom.

"Ssshhh… Everything's going to be okay."

**SLM**

 _Thank you for reading – see you next Sunday!_

 _ **Fic Rec: Aim Straight for the Heart by GeekChic12 -**_ _"Jesus," Edward muttered. "Is it so hard to believe I'd want to go on a date with Swan?" A spur-of-the-moment bet will put Bella in a compromising position with the boy next door. They've been best friends since forever, so having his hand down her pants won't change anything... Right?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/alerted/favourited and yelled at me on facebook!**

 **Big hugs to SparklyMeg, Iris and MidightCougar who deserve gold medals.**

 ****SLM****

 **Chapter 3**

 **1 year later…**

 _ **Her POV**_

Time's pretty much stood still as I've watched my friends go off without me. While they've enjoyed beach parties, bonfires, and group dates to the movies with new guys from different states, I've stayed at home. Phone calls have become scarce, fading into nothing but missed calls and answering machines.

It's nobody's fault; that's just life.

Each day gets a little easier… or, at least, I think it does. When I think I may just be getting on top of things, someone will walk past me wearing the same perfume my mom used to wear, and it floors me.

Today's a day I've tried not to think about. It's been looming over my head like a dark cloud for weeks, ever since someone reminded me of the upcoming summer holidays. If I'd been a cartoon, you would've seen the little lightbulb going off at the top of my head. Since then, I've done everything I can to push it to the back of my mind, which of course means it's the only thing I've thought about.

We decide to make today a family day, making sure we don't forget _them._ Aunt Rose has a nice idea for celebrating their lives; we'll always mourn their loss, but we'll never move on if we focus on the grief instead of what we had with them.

"You look lovely." My family's waiting at the bottom of the stairs, all ready to go.

"Thanks." I smile softly. I'm wearing my favorite light blue dress. It's probably a little bit too dressy for today, but my mom loved it, so it feels right.

"You do, too." And she does. Aunt Rose has always been the opposite of Mom; blonde hair to my mom's red, almost six feet tall to Mom's proud five-foot-one status, and blue eyes to my mom's brown. Today, she's chosen a pink, knee-length summer dress and white flip-flops, which are both perfect for the weather.

Uncle Em stands next to her, holding their two-year-old son, Logan. They're both wearing khaki shorts and a polo shirt. They match, they look adorable, and they're both grinning at me as if they know it, even Logan.

I love how we've all held up our side of the deal: no black.

"Very smart." I nod at Emmett.

He winks. "You know it."

**SLM** 

"Do you want to go alone? We can come with you, if you want…" We're still in the car, the air conditioning blasting and the radio turned off. Both Rose and Emmett have turned in their seats to face me, each wearing an identical mask of worry.

"We... We should all go." I nod. "Yeah. That makes sense." I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry and scratchy. I lift my head so I can look at them, my eyes pleading as they meet Rose's. "I mean, we said we'd do this together, right?"

She reaches over and grabs my hand. "Of course."

I get out of the car first, grabbing the flowers and pair of scissors I brought with me. Mom didn't really have a favorite flower. If they were pretty, smelled nice, and were given to her by my father, she loved them, so I chose a bouquet of different-colored dahlias.

"They're gorgeous, Bella. She would've loved them."

Her smile wavers, and her eyes are already showing signs of tears, although she fights them.

"Thanks, Aunt Rose."

She takes my hand, and we follow the path to my parents' grave.

The cemetery's quiet. I can only see one other couple close to us, most likely due to the weather. Nobody wants to be here on such a pretty day. But today, there's nowhere I'd rather be. The sun is high in the cloudless sky, with the intense heat beating down on us. It's the polar opposite of the same day last year, and for that, I'm thankful.

"It's weird, huh?"

Rose glances at me. "Weird? Weird how?"

I swing our hands between us like Mom used to do when she held my hand. "It's… Well, I'm nineteen, it's the start of summer… and I'm in a cemetery. Visiting my parents."

"I wouldn't call that weird, honey."

I shrug. "I'm not describing it well." I sigh. "I just never thought I'd be here, you know?"

"I'd be worried if you did." Her tone is light, and I smile at her joke.

"I just… I can't remember the last thing I said to them. I don't know if I snapped at them for meddling or if I was laughing at them for being sickly sweet when they thought I wasn't looking." I look at Rose, and she's crying. "What if I was mad at them? What if the last thing I said to them was something horrible? I was always griping at them about being too interfering, how I just wanted them to treat me like an adult—" I sob and squeeze Rose's hand. "What… What if they thought I didn't love them just because I was behaving like a whiny teenager?"

Rose shakes her head and dries my tears with her hands, allowing hers to flow freely. "There's no way they'd doubt your feelings for them, kiddo." I snort-laugh at the use of my dad's nickname for me. "That's part of being a teenager; they knew that. They knew you loved them. That's not something you need to worry about. Okay?"

I nod and wipe my face.

"Good. Now let's go say hi."

**SLM**

 _ **His POV**_

The guy staring back at me from the mirror doesn't even look like me anymore. My face is pale, gaunt from lack of sleep and food. My bloodshot eyes stand out, framed by huge black bags. My hair, although it's never been short, is even more wild and untamed than ever after months of me no longer giving a shit.

"Are you ready?" My mom appears in my bathroom doorway, a soft, wistful smile on her face. "You okay?"

I shrug. "It's... hitting me harder than I thought it would, Mom."

"I know, sweetie. It's kinda crept up on us, hasn't it? It only feels like yesterday she was asking me about her prom dress." She runs her fingers through her hair, a habit she's picked up from me this last year.

I smile, 'cause Alice never asked anything. She told.

"Dad ready to go?"

"He's in the front room. Said you might need me before we go…"

"I'm okay. I just… I keep replaying our last conversation over and over… She died mad at me, and I don't know if I'll ever be okay with that." I glance back at the mirror, hating the face that stares back at me.

"Don't, Edward. We've been through this. You were brother and sister. You bickered. She might've been upset but only because she knew she was in the wrong. She knew you loved her."

"If maybe I'd gone with her—"

"Then I'd have two dead children!"

My head snaps up at my mom's tone. "I know this is hard. God, I know it. But please don't wish you were with her. I'm not sure what I would've done if I'd lost you both…" Her voice cracks, and she covers her face with both hands.

I rush over and pull her to me. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean—"

"You do, though, and that's the scary thing. It's like you wish you'd died that night, too."

I shake my head. "I don't. I don't know why I said that. It was stupid." It really was. Like today isn't hard enough for us, I have to go and make her even more upset.

"I'm sorry," I say again, although it doesn't seem to matter how many times I say it. I keep fucking up.

"You have to realize you're still living." She thumps my chest for emphasis. "You didn't die that night, Edward." My mom buries her head in my chest, silent sobs wracking her frame.

"P-please. I need you, Edward."

**SLM**

I pull myself together for my parents, and when my mom's tears stop, I know I've done the right thing. On the outside, I look more together, but on the inside, I'm crumbling.

Darkness hovers over my shoulder, ominous and heavy, reminding me that I'm the reason my sister's dead any time I try to move on.

My dad takes the car as close as he can to Alice's grave, and we walk the remainder of the way. My mom has a bouquet of roses in her hand and holds mine in the other. My dad flanks her other side, reminiscing about a family vacation we'd taken to the Keys.

"She wasn't a fan of those hoverboats. She was adamant a gator would flip us." I chuckle at the memory, and my mom playfully pokes my side.

"That was your fault for teasing her!"

"It was so easy to do. She always took the bait."

Mom sighs. I catch the moment she shares with my dad, and I know they're both remembering. Vacations, family nights, Alice.

"It's such a nice day," my mom says, looking up at the sky.

"I'm glad it's so different from last year." My dad follows my mom's gaze as if he's looking for her. Like they both are.

I want to look up but can't. I don't want to think of Alice looking down on us. What would she see? What would she say to me?

Does she blame me?

My mom steps into my dad's arms as we approach the grave. He wraps his arm protectively around her shoulder, kissing the side of her head before they step closer. I remain where I am and watch how they support each other without even doing something special.

The way my dad holds my mom when her grief begins to take over, how she rests her head on his shoulder in their own moment of silence, or the way my mom strokes his back when he crouches in front of her, his fingers trailing over my sister's name on the headstone.

Little things. Little things that make me glad they at least have each other, because there's no way I can be as strong as that.

I stand back, letting them have this together without me tainting it. My gaze falls to the headstone next to us, then the next, and then the next. All old people—people who lived their lives and most likely didn't have it snatched away from them at such a tender age like Alice did.

As if someone's trying to prove a point, I then see a family passing as they walk to their car.

A young family so close together. Arms wrapped around each other, cooing over the toddler who's fussing in his daddy's arms, and the younger woman being comforted by someone I assume is her mother.

And for a brief second, I hate them.

I hate everything they have.

They still get to be a proper family.

**SLM** 

_Thank you for reading – see you next Sunday!_

 _For anyone not there already, come say hi on my facebook page – just search for Twilightladies Fanction and you should find me! We talk fics we're reading, teasers of my stories and share some Rob p0rn!_

 _ **Fic Rec: Elemental by TallulahBelle -**_ _ **AU/AH: When the Swans return to their birthplace, Bella learns she is no ordinary teenager, and Forks is no ordinary town. Can she fulfill her destiny with the powerful Edward Cullen, or will the dark forces that threaten their families destroy them all?**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to SparklyMeg, MidnightCougar and MariahajilE**

 **Chapter 4**

 **5 Years Later...**

 _ **Her POV**_

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad." My fingers trail over their names on the headstone. "I'm sorry I haven't not been around much. Things have been so busy since Christmas." I lean back on my haunches and sigh. "I finished college, although I'm not sure what that means now. Aunt Rose says since I enjoyed being editor on the paper that I should look into that, but I don't know. What do you think?"

Each year gets easier. At first, I felt silly talking to them, as though I expected them to talk back, but Aunt Rose said it helped her, so I gave it a shot. Now I tell them everything.

"I've got my own place in the city. It's cute. You'd like it, Mom; it has a view over the beach. And Dad, it's got a security guard and a key code to get into the building, so you'd like it, too." I chuckle, knowing that's the main and only thing my dad would've looked into had he been here to help me pick a place.

"I broke up with Garrett, too. Well, he broke up with me. I can't really compete with his dream job in London. He doesn't even want to try."

Tears form, and I let them fall. They fall for my parents, for the relationship I seemed to be more invested in than my boyfriend did, and for my life that feels so busy yet leaves me feeling lonelier than ever.

"I miss you," I whisper, wiping my face with my sleeve. "I miss you both so much. I… I still don't know how to do this without you." I fall back on my ass and slide my feet up so I can lean my forehead on my knees. "What am I supposed to do?"

**SLM** 

The sky is changing from a light blue to a dull gray when I finally leave hours later. There's a chill in the air, just enough to make me wrap my arms around my waist and quicken my pace to the car. I've been caught out enough times to know the weather can turn on you before you can even blink.

I didn't say anything else after my crying fit by the headstone. I didn't need to. Talking helps on some days; others, I just like to sit there and pretend they're sitting next to me.

Like I haven't lost them.

I'm in the car when I see him. It's not the first time, and I know if he feels the same kind of pain I do, then it won't be the last.

He wears the same grief-stricken look, his eyes red either from unshed tears or tears he's let fall. His hair is the next thing I notice, only because it's hard not to; sticking up in every direction as if he's been running his fingers through it repeatedly. Most people I see carry bouquets of flowers to place at the sites, but he always carries a single rose. It must mean something, and not for the first time, I wonder who he's here visiting, who he's lost.

And if he's just as lonely as I am.

**SLM**

 _ **His POV**_

My parents visit the cemetery frequently: on her birthday, at Christmas, when they're having a bad day. I can't even make it out the front door on the anniversary of her death, though.

I visit my parents on the anniversary, but I can never find it in me to make that extra step with them. On the few times I do go, I'm always alone, refusing to let them witness my meltdowns. For that reason, I've never had the strength to visit on her anniversary.

After lunch, they leave without asking if I want to join them. I'm not hurt by it; it's just the way things are for now. I get up and watch through my window, my mom carrying the bouquet as she does every year and my dad opening the passenger door for her.

They make it look so easy.

I don't understand how it gets easier, how they can face going to visit her grave knowing her life was stopped short and we get to continue living. Without her.

For me, it gets more difficult, like trying to walk fast in deep water; the more you try, the harder it gets. I'll be having a good day, or a good week, and then something will happen that floors me. It can be something simple like smelling the perfume she used to wear or coming across something that hadn't been cleared away. I remember when we found her college application she'd kept hidden from us—from all of us. I don't know who took _that_ the hardest.

My parents' car fades into the distance, and I squint when the sun bounces off the roof. Each time they leave, I feel part relieved and part wishing I'd gone with them. I want to be able to go.

I want to be strong enough to see her grave, to talk to her like my parents do.

To apologize.

**SLM**

When I leave my parents', I have no idea where I'm going, just that I want to go somewhere.

Anywhere.

I drive through the city, heading toward St. Augustine, before turning back on myself and back into the city.

I don't even know where I'm going until I'm at the cemetery and I have a single rose on the passenger seat next to me.

My heart feels like it's going at double its normal speed as I drive through the gates on autopilot. The trees line the road as if they're welcoming us, the branches waving as they sway in the light breeze. If it weren't a cemetery, it would almost be picturesque.

I go straight for Alice's grave, not sure of why I'm here or if I'll even get out of the car. But at least I'm here.

The sun moves from its highest point of the day and is almost fully set by the time I work the nerve to leave the car. The dull orange glow filters through the trees, making shadows dance across the ground. The breeze cuts through me, just cold enough to bring goosebumps out on my arms.

The single rose feels heavy in my hand, and I wonder if it's enough. I haven't been here since her funeral. Is a rose really enough to say everything I want to? That I'm sorry I haven't been around to visit as much as I should have? That I'm sorry I can't face looking at her grave?

That I'm sorry it's my fault she died?

**SLM**

She wears the same look of grief I recognize when I look in the mirror. When she catches my gaze, she smiles softly, but it wavers, as if she doesn't know if she should be smiling.

It's pretty, and I can only imagine how beautiful she is when she's wearing a happy smile.

But since she's here, I know she won't have a reason to smile. She had her reason taken away from her.

She drops her gaze and looks away, quickly going back to her car, but I can't keep my eyes off her. I watch as she climbs back into her car and drives away.

And it's then I know.

I know if she can face her demons alone, then I can face mine.

**SLM**

 _ **Thank you for reading – see you next week!**_

 _ **Fic Rec: Grim and Darling by Honeybeemeadows –**_ _Every town has a tragedy. Every tragedy has a devil. That's me._


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to SparklyMeg, MidnightCougar and MariahajilE**

 **Sorry I never got to review replies – work is two people done, toddler that has more teeth cutting through and a hubby who had man flu. As you can imagine, fun week. I read them all, and I'm sure some of you would hear the squeals, because I still can't get over people reading and reviewing my stuff.**

 **Let's see how these two are coping…**

 **Chapter 5**

 **6 years later…**

 **Her POV**

Each year gets easier. It still hurts—God, does it hurt—but things become more bearable. Even though I moved out, I see my aunt Rose and her family as much as possible. I learned the hard way that you don't know when things can be snatched away from you, and I don't want to miss anything with her.

My new friends know about my parents because their story made the news. They're amazing and make that little bit of extra effort on my birthday and the holidays when I'm at my lowest.

Maggie, my roommate and closest friend, probably understands the most since she lost her mom to cancer when she was ten. Her mom fought the disease for years; so long that Maggie can't remember what her mom looked like with hair.

Watching how she's continued with her life has been the biggest help to me. She was able to go to school, get her degree, and become a teacher.

 _"You don't forget them, Bella. You never will,"_ she told me. _"You just learn to carry on."_

" _How?"_

" _It's different for everyone. For me, I think about my mom watching over me. She'd want to see me happy and enjoying life. So I do. It doesn't mean I've forgotten her."_

**SLM** 

"You promised."

"I did?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't sound like something I'd do."

"Bella…"

"Maggie…"

She huffs, and I finally look up at her, unable to hold back my grin. She bites so easily, not even realizing when she's being baited.

"Stop smiling at me like that. You said you'd help cheer me up."

"I was thinking more along the lines of chick flicks, ice cream, and wine. You know, the normal post-breakup ritual."

She pulls my legs from the sofa and sits in the empty space. "We've done that. I want to go out."

"Okay. But I get to pick where."

**SLM**

I don't think I could ever _not_ live by the beach; it's always been a part of me. The day trips with my parents when I was a kid are my favorite memories. My dad sucked at helping with sandcastles, but he always tried. When I was in high school, it was the beach parties during the holidays and then the renowned bonfires when I was in college.

Tonight, Maggie lets me drag her to one of my favorite bars, The Lemon Bar, which is right by the ocean. It has a more casual feel to it, which is why I love it. Dressed in my favorite skinny jeans, flip flops, and a tank, I fit right in.

It's busy, but we manage to find a table outside close to the bar. The sun's starting to set, but it's still warm enough outside, reminding us summer isn't too far away. Every so often, a breeze passes, giving us a welcome relief from the heat.

"I gotta admit that I'm starting to see why you like this place so much." She has her back to the ocean and is facing the bar.

I follow her gaze to a group of guys by the bar; it's hard to miss them. They're loud enough to be heard over the music. The bar top in front of them is covered with pitchers of beer, most of which seem to be going down very quickly. They appear to be around our age, dressed in tight t-shirts and khaki shorts.

"Frat boys aren't the reason I like this place so much."

"Well, they should be. They're yummy."

I shrug. I can see the attraction, but they're totally not my type.

She rolls her eyes. "They're hot, Bella."

I nod. "And they know it." I turn in my seat. "You know I can't date someone who takes longer to get ready than I do."

"Mmm…" She's not even looking at me now, having caught the attention of one of the more muscled guys.

I pick up a menu and read through it. "How about we order and you can go up to the bar to get our drinks?"

She grins and smooths her hair. "I like your way of thinking."

**SLM** 

A few hours later, our food is long forgotten and the guys have moved from their space at the bar to the table next to us.

Liam, the guy Maggie set her sights on, seems just as interested in her as she is in him. I smile as I watch them play the game of cat and mouse while also trying to include me in the conversation so I don't feel left out. Once I catch their lingering glances and soft touches under the table, I take them as my cue to leave.

"You don't have to leave, Bella." It's a half-assed attempt. I know it. She knows it.

"It's okay, really. Stay and have fun." I look pointedly at Liam. "And be safe."

She winks and grins at me, and I know she'll be okay. For her, a rebound may really be the best idea to get over her breakup.

"Are you sure, Bella? Edward should be here soon; I think you'd get along well." He grins. "He's a lot calmer than these goons. If you're going to judge me on my friends, can you wait and judge me on him instead of them?"

I glance to his friends who have moved onto what look like bikini models and roll my eyes. "You are the company you keep, Liam," I taunt.

He grimaces. "Great."

We both laugh, and I ruffle Maggie's hair as I pass. "Have fun. And tell this Edward I say hi."

**SLM**

Sunday is my lazy day. I sleep late, spend most of the day in my pyjamas, watch car crash TV, and eat junk food.

And I don't feel guilty about it.

This morning is different, though. The apartment is quieter than normal, meaning Maggie is still at Liam's. She texted me _much_ later last night with nothing but winky faces, so I know she's having fun. The quietness somehow puts me on edge, restless, like I can't settle properly. Instead of falling into my Sunday routine, I shower, get dressed, and decide to go see my parents.

The roads are quiet with people either still recovering from their Saturday night or spending time with their family.

As the sun starts to peak, I remember how we would make a last-minute plan to go to the beach. Mom would make a picnic as I "helped" my dad pack the car. The tears catch me off guard, the memories becoming too much, and I cry alone in my car all the way to the cemetery.

**SLM**

It's quiet, and I think I'm the only one there. Until I see him. He's walking toward me, and I think the person he's visiting may be close by, but then he turns away and takes another path. I watch him go, unable to take my eyes from him for reasons I can't begin to think about.

It might be the way his white t-shirt frames his muscles perfectly.

Or the way he runs his fingers through his hair when he sees me looking. Nervous. Unsure.

But I have a feeling it's all to do with the way he smiles at me.

**SLM**

 **His POV**

After I visited Alice once, it got easier. Sometimes I would sit alone without saying anything. Other times, I would talk to her and tell her about my day. Others, I just apologize—for arguing with her, for trying to be the cooler older brother, and for letting her go out alone.

Alone.

The part I hate the most is that she died alone. The hospital told us she died instantly and wouldn't have felt a thing. It gives my parents closure; they'd worried she died slowly.

Me? There's no closure. Even if she died instantly, there would've been those few seconds of instant terror; that fear that makes your heart drop to your stomach, and makes your blood run cold.

I don't believe your life flashes before your eyes. For those few seconds, when she felt the car spin out of control, she knew. She knew what was going to happen, and she couldn't stop it. Nothing but sheer terror passes through you.

So, no matter what the doctors, nurses, and police tell us, she suffered, whether instantly or gradually.

And I'm never going to be able to forget that.

Or be able to forgive myself.

**SLM**

Last night, Alice haunted my dreams. I wanted to talk to her, but every time I walked toward her, she disappeared, as if she couldn't bear to be in the same room as me.

I wake covered in sweat and with her face fresh in my mind. The last image was her standing at the cemetery gates crying. She kept looking behind her and then back to me, but whenever I took a step near her, she'd shake her head.

My hands are shaking as I sit up in bed, haunted by the image of my baby sister unwilling to let me near her. It was my worst nightmare played out in front of me.

With my heart pounding and my stomach in knots, I know I won't be able to get back to sleep. I take a quick shower and head out with one destination in mind.

At this time of day on a Sunday, the cemetery is as quiet as I expected it to be. The chill of the morning is still here, but the orange haze of the sun cutting through reminds me it's summer.

I'd assumed I'd be the only person here, but when I see her, I'm glad I was wrong. We've passed each other a few times now, but we haven't spoken or exchanged anything other than a wave and a smile.

She looks different this time, as though there's a weight lifted off her shoulders, and I'm glad. Someone so beautiful doesn't deserve to be so burdened.

I want to ask her if she's moved on and, if so, how she did it.

Part of me wishes I was brave enough to walk toward her, to ask her name and who she's here to see. Do we share the same kind of grief?

Is she coping better than I am?

But I don't. Instead, I give her the only thing I can just now.

I smile at her.

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_

 _ **Fic Rec: If This, Then by BledDry - If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing: timing. But timing is a bitch.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to everyone still reading/alerting/reviewing, I hate that RL is so busy I can't reply.**

 **Thank you to SparklyMeg, MidnightCougar and MariahajilE**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Seven years later...**

 _ **Her POV**_

When I arrive at the grave, I'm surprised to see Aunt Rose already there, crouching down and resting one hand on the headstone. Her head's down as if in silent prayer, and there's a golden glow from the sun surrounding her as if my parents are looking down on her.

She looks up as I approach, my feet rustling on the grass. "Hey, sweetie." She smiles, but it's sad, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

She shrugs and falls back on her haunches, her dress pulling tight across her thighs. "I didn't plan on it. Sometimes I just pop by."

I smile. "I do the same."

She sighs, trailing her fingers over my mom's name. I feel my tears appear and don't fight them. Sometimes I rely on Aunt Rose so much I forget she lost her big sister.

"She'd be so proud of you, Bella. They both would. You know that, right?"

I sit next to her and take her free hand in mine. "I do."

Aunt Rose knows better than anyone how much I struggled in the first few years following their deaths. I fell into a depression, focusing only on the memories I had and forgetting I still had a life to live, one they would've wanted me to live to the fullest. Having Aunt Rose and Uncle Emmett spot it helped me from spiralling out of control.

Aunt Rose takes a deep breath, turning to look at me, and for the first time, I notice how pale she looks.

"Are you okay?"

She nods, her smile growing stronger by the second. "I'm pregnant."

She had my mom for support with Logan. Even my dad, who tried to hide it, helped my uncle. And now, it's hitting home she has to do this without the support and excitement of her big sister.

She hugs me. Or I hug her.

Both of us are crying, thinking about how this is just another time we're going to miss my parents at such a pivotal time.

**SLM**

Aunt Rose lets me have my time with my parents, asking me to meet her at the diner not too far from here.

Today I'm talkative. I tell my parents about my promotion to junior editor in the hopes they'd be proud of me. It's not the best paid job or gives the best hours or vacation days, but I'm doing something I enjoy. I tell them about Maggie and Liam and how I feel like I'll be looking for a new place or a new roommate soon. They never met her, but I know they would've liked her. Everyone did.

Soon, I say my goodbyes and head to meet Aunt Rose. She looked happy, but part of her looked scared. Or sad.

It's not until I'm almost at my car that I see him as he arrives. Our gazes meet immediately, and I automatically smile, my stomach doing somersaults when he smiles back.

He nods, mouthing "hi" as we pass, and I mouth it back.

Sometimes I wish we could time it better so we're arriving or leaving at the same time. He always looks so sad, and I wonder if he could use someone to talk to. Someone who understands what he's going through.

Someone like me.

**SLM**

 _ **His POV**_

For the first time since we lost Alice, I admit to myself that maybe I'm not coping as well as everyone else.

Others around me are moving on, going on with their days as if nothing has changed. They've found their way to cope, whereas I feel stuck. It's as if I'm knee-deep in heavy mud, and with every step I try to take, the harder it gets.

I see how my parents are, and I'm glad they have each other. They've been such a support to each other, and I know my dad has been my mom's rock. I hear them whispering sometimes, how she's glad she still has him and how he wouldn't have coped without her.

And while I love that they have each other, my heart pangs with jealousy. I don't have that go-to person, the one who knows exactly what to say before you can tell them.

The one who helps you out of your dark hole.

Alice was my person who understood me.

The only solace I can find is at the cemetery. Instead of avoiding it as I used to, I become obsessed with visiting her, so much so that I avoid nights out with my friends. I make excuses to stay home or stay late at work.

Anything to just not go.

**SLM**

It's after a particularly difficult day when I decide to pass by the cemetery on my way home. Work sucked; customers were griping and complaining about anything and everything. When one refused to pay what had been quoted, I decided to take advantage of being my own boss and closed up shop early.

Halfway home, I change my mind and go to the cemetery. It's just after Alice's anniversary, and in some ways, I'm reminded of how the years have passed: missed birthdays, holidays, and what should've been her graduation.

In other ways, it feels like she's just left me, like she could come walking through the door any second.

As I park my car, I try to think what made me come today. I was only here the other day, and I'll be coming again on Sunday as I normally do. There's no real reason for me to need to be here today.

Then I see her.

She hasn't seen me yet because she's walking with her head tipped down ever so slightly, but she has a soft smile on her face, like she's thinking about something or someone.

Or remembering.

I want to walk toward her. The old me would have without even thinking about it. I'd say something charming, make her laugh, and then invite her for coffee. Now? The mere thought makes me break out into a sweat.

As I watch her, I know one day I'll speak to her. I want to know about her. Why she comes here, why she's sometimes alone, and why she's sometimes with the other couple. Is she as lonely as I am or just better at hiding it? When she comes here, does she feel as alone as I do, or does it go away for her?

Her steps falter when she does see me, and I wonder if she may be thinking about me, if she often hopes about finding someone, too.

She smiles softly, hesitantly, as if she's worried I won't return it.

When I do, her smile widens and I know I can do this.

Maybe not now.

But one day.

**SLM**

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _ **Fic Rec: Begin Again by pattyrose - You can't always start over. Life gets real, and memories of first love, no matter how passionate it may have been, get relegated to weekly, monthly, yearly, and then…occasionally. Until it's time to begin again. E &B**_ _._


	8. Chapter 8

**You guys… I am SO sorry! I got my chapters mixed up completely! Chapter 9 was posted instead of chapter 8… dammit!**

 **Go read, and please forgive me for my idiocy!**

 **We're at the prologue now folks… Present time and the ten year anniversary of the accident.**

 **Chapter 8**

 _ **Now…**_

 _ **Her POV**_

The sun sets low in the sky, with dark clouds looming on the horizon. A rumble of thunder makes me jump, and I pick up speed as I head toward my parents' grave. The cool air nips at my cheeks, a warning that summer won't be around too much longer.

I wrap my jacket tighter around my body. My hands are shaking, the dread already sitting deep in my stomach. I've been told this gets easier. But how could it? Sometimes I think I have it all together, like maybe I can carry on. I can be strong.

On other days the pain hits me like a bulldozer, as fresh as it was the day they died.

The rain starts to fall. It's only light, but I know it's only a matter of time before it gets stronger. I could almost laugh at the irony. That exactly ten years ago, on a very similar kind of night, my parents were snatched away from me.

There is no laughter, though.

Instead, the tears fall freely, and I do nothing to stop them.

I hate these kind of nights. The ones, where the sun hides from us, the darkness creeping in and taking over in mere moments. Dark clouds looming in the distance, teasing us, only hitting us at the last minute, giving us no time to prepare.

The kind of night that makes me think about when they left me.

I can almost hear the screech of the tires.

I can almost hear my dad's panic stricken voice, begging my mom to wake up, and then just waiting in the darkness until he followed after her.

I fall to my knees as I reach their headstones, the flowers slipping to the ground.

"Hi, Daddy. Hi, Mom." My fingers trace their names etched in the cold stone.

ooOoo

I don't know how long I sit there in the rain, not caring as the water seeps through my rain coat. I can feel my jeans getting damp, and my hair curling where the edges have blown out from under my hood.

Feeling utterly drained, I gather the flowers that I dropped, replace them with the old bouquet, and head home.

Every step I take tonight feels foreboding. Normally, coming here helps settle me; coming to see my parents isn't something I feel nervous about. I still feel sad. I'll never get over the grief of losing them so early, especially when I think of everything they missed: my high school graduation, my college graduation, me getting married, having kids.

All of it.

But there's something else that lingers tonight. Something… _more._

I quicken my pace as I approach the gates, desperate to leave before something bad happens, when I see _him._ The cloud that feels like it's been hanging over my head all day lifts, and I feel lighter, less weighed down, somehow. I can't help the small smile that spreads across my lips.

He's walking toward me with purpose, his whole body rigid, his hands gesturing in front of him, and his head down. Part of me likes that he's maybe talking himself into approaching me. That he feels as drawn to me as I am him. My body goes on high alert, and my smile widens at the sight of him.

I slow down and let him make his way to me, remembering how freaked he'd been when I spoke to him first. Now we've passed that barrier he seems a little more relaxed about talking to me. The memory makes me giggle, the sound reaching him and making him look up at me.

"Something funny?" he calls as he ups his pace, breaking into a slow jog.

I shake my head. "No, just remembering something."

He's panting slightly as he stops in front of me, his smile wide and dazzling. "Good memories?" He shakes his head, droplets of rain going in all directions.

I'm mesmerized by him. The way his smile reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the edges. The way his gaze roams me, waiting for my reply like it's the most important thing to him.

I nod, my grin matching his. "Yeah. Good memories."

I don't know much about him. I don't really know anything about him. All I know is he's lost someone. I don't know who he comes to visit, or how they died, but he's here almost as much as I am, so I know they must have been very close.

He doesn't offer the information, and I don't ask. If he's like me, he'll talk when he's ready.

We continue walking toward the exit, nothing but silence between us. We walk close together, leaving the tiniest gap between us, and I have to shove my hand in my pocket to keep myself from reaching for his.

Is it silly I'm _this_ attracted to someone so quickly?

When we get to the fork in the path, I turn to face him, gesturing in my direction. "I guess I'll..."

He nods. "Yeah." He shifts on his feet as if he wants to ask me to something.

And I don't know what it is, but I want him to ask me.

When the silence turns awkward, I try to put him out of his misery. "Umm—"

"Wait… wait, Bella." I turn around. "Would you like to get some coffee?"

ooOoo

"I thought it would be nice if we got to know each other." He smiles nervously, gripping his coffee. "You know instead of just 'hi' here and there."

I nod. "I agree."

Silence fall between us, and I'm at a loss of things to say to him. Do we talk about why we visit so much? Who we're visiting? Or is that too personal so soon?

Or is it perfect for us?

He decides for me. "I come to visit my sister."

My gaze meets his, and I'm met with the same grief deep in his eyes that I see in my own every time I look in the mirror. "I'm sorry."

"I come to visit my parents." I take a deep breath, willing the tears away. They fall anyway.

His face softens. Normally I hate the look people give me when I tell them. All the 'I'm sorries,' or 'I understand what you're going through.' They don't, and I hate that they think they do. It's nothing but pity; I don't need it and I don't want it.

But with Edward it's different. He understands.

"Was it sudden?" he asks, and I nod.

"Alice too. Sometimes I still can't believe she's gone. We were arguing—I can't even remember what about really, something stupid I think." He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. "She stormed out. An hour later I received a visit from the police—she'd skidded through a red light."

I gasp, leaning back in my seat. "She died in a car accident?"

He scrunches his eyes closed. "Yes," he whispers. "Ten years ago tonight."

 _ **His POV**_

I see her as she arrives at the cemetery, but something keeps me from going to her. I can see the tears from where I stand; she looks so lost, so... alone. Anything I say or do will only be intruding. As much as I want to be a source of comfort to her, I know better than most people how much she will want to be alone. I know how precious these moments are, and no matter how good anyone's intentions are, they won't be able to help. As a grumble of thunder sounds in the distance, I know no matter how bad the weather is going to get, she won't be leaving until she's ready.

Instead, I take shelter under a large tree and wait. Today I realize something I should've realized a long time ago; something my parents, my friends, have been telling me for years. Life is too short. Having Alice taken from us so soon, so suddenly, and far too quickly made them see this. I just took a little longer. And when I say goodbye to Alice today, I decide if I see Bella I will do more than smile and say hi, I will ask her to go for coffee.

The rain is light, much lighter than it was when I arrived earlier, but the air still feels heavy, like it can change at any moment. I don't think I'll ever look at days like these the same way ever again. The dark clouds always appear in the distance, and then they seem to follow us. Creeping, faster and faster, until they're here and the skies open. I hate them. I hate everything they resemble. Every memory they cause.

And I hate that I'll never escape them.

The fear will always be there; any time I have to go somewhere in weather like this. Even now, part of me wants to run to my car, and go home before the heavier rain comes back again. The dread is constant, settling in my stomach, lingering, until I make it home.

I look over in the direction of Alice's grave. My parents are there now, going later than they normally do, knowing I wanted to go alone earlier in the day. I yelled, screamed, and cried until there was nothing left. Today always hurts more than the other days. The memories a little fresher, the cuts a little deeper. I focus on trying to remember the good times we shared, instead of the bad memories that force their way forward, occupying every thought I have. As the darkness lifts, I feel myself look for Bella. Although my time at the grave is private, I want to see her. To see someone who knows. Knows how I'm feeling, who knows what I'm going through and why I still feel the need to yell, even after all this time.

My thoughts are interrupted when a movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I turn to see Bella walking slowly back to her car. Her jacket is a shade darker than when she arrived and looks to be stuck to her clothes, thanks to the rain, which although light is still persistent. All of a sudden, she glances down and walks faster, and I know if I don't ask her now, I never will.

I take a deep breath and walk toward her, my head down against the growing wind. "You can do this," I mumble. "It's just coffee."

Her soft laughter makes me look up and I find her watching me. The nerves settle a bit, replaced with something I can't put my finger on yet… but I like it.

"Something funny?" I ask as I pick up my pace.

She's still smiling, and it makes me smile. "No, just remembering something."

"Good memories?"

I shake my head, cringing when droplets of rain hit her, although her smile tells me she either doesn't notice or doesn't care. I can't help but stare; the way she's smiling at me, her eyes bright and alert, a polar opposite of the girl I saw arrive earlier.

She nods, answering my question. "Yeah. Good memories."

I want to know about the memories; who they're about, why they make her smile. But something stops me, knowing if she wants to tell me she will. As stunning as her smile is, there's something behind it, though; something which tells me she's experienced the kind of hurt I have.

I struggle to find the words as we walk toward the exit. The air between us feels different somehow. Even in the dampness from the lingering rain it's intense and I have to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from taking her hand in mine as I want to. I don't know what it is about this woman that has me on such a high frequency; I'm almost vibrating for her touch.

The gates appear quicker than I want, and I rack my mind trying to think of something to say. How I can ask her for coffee instead of letting her leave.

"I guess I'll…"

"Yeah…" _No!_

"Umm—"

"Wait… wait, Bella. Would you like to get some coffee?"

ooOoo

"I thought it would be nice if we got to know each other." I wrap my hands around my coffee, hoping the warmth will spread soon. "You know instead of just 'hi' here and there."

"I agree."

I hate the silence which falls between us, but I know why it's there. There's an elephant in the room, and if we're to overcome it, one of us needs to make the first move. I figure I asked her here, so I should be the one to go first.

"I come to visit my sister."

The words still hurt as they come out, but I'm glad I've told her.

"I'm sorry." When I look at her I don't see the sympathy I see in others, I see understanding.

She takes a shaky breath, a few silent tears falling, and I know she's about to open up to me. "I come to visit my parents."

She looks so upset, as if she's still trying to come to terms with it. And I have a feeling it's not something she was given time to wrap her head around beforehand. I know how much that hurts, and I hate she's experienced it. While she wipes away her tears, I wish I could comfort her in some way, help her in some way.

"Was it sudden?"

She sniffs and nods, wiping her sleeve under her eyes.

"Alice, too," I offer. "Sometimes I still can't believe she's gone. We were arguing—I can't even remember what about really, something stupid about a party, I think." I shake my head and take a sip of my coffee. "She stormed out. An hour later I received a visit from the police—she'd skidded through a red light."

I hear her gasp, and watch as her pale skin turns almost gray-like. "She died in a car accident?" Her voice is a whisper, as if it was a struggle to say the words.

"Yes," I whisper. "Ten years ago tonight."

She pushes her chair back, the scraping noise echoing throughout the quiet cafe. "I...I…" She stands up, almost knocking the table as she does, before she sits back down.

"Bella." I half-stand, holding the table before it falls over, and then sitting when she does.

"What… Did I say something?"

She looks as though she's seen a ghost. She's shaking her head, her wide eyes on me, but I can tell she's not actually seeing me. She's covered with a slight sheen of sweat, her hands shaking as she wraps them around her half-empty coffee. Her eyes glance to the door and then back to me, as if she's preparing to bolt.

"I'm a good listener, Bella. I can help. Even if you just want to—"

"My parents died ten years ago tonight. In a car crash. They were driving home when… when..." Her words are rushed, and cut off by a sob. She looks down at the table, but closes her eyes, scrunching them tightly closed as if trying to push out the images I know are dancing behind them. She opens them, looking at me, the hurt… the despair palpable as it fizzes between us.

Her words leave something lingering between us. Something that causes my heart to quicken, and not in the good way. Her eyes go between watching me, her coffee, and the door, and I know she feels it, too.

There was only one big car crash in the city that night. It made headlines for weeks: closed roads, emergency services on the scene for hours, and two families impacted by the loss.

I force myself to look at her. She's already watching me with a wary look on her face. She knows; she's just waiting for me to say it.

"Your parents died in a car crash? Ten years ago? Tonight?"

"Yes," she whispers.

Memories of that night flash through my mind like a movie played in slow motion. The argument we'd had before she stormed out. The thunder and lightning making the lights flicker in the house; the pounding on the door so loud it still haunts my dreams. And how I felt like I was moving in slow motion to the door, the feeling of foreboding dominating everything.

How everything went blurry as they told me.

Accident, they'd said.

Dead at the scene, they'd said.

Don't worry, she wouldn't have felt a thing.

Everything goes fuzzy, and I have to rest my head on my hands as it all comes rushing back; my memories swirling around with Bella's words. It all makes sense — no matter how much I don't want it to. I can feel Bella watching me, her unasked questions lingering between us. I want to tell her I still understand, but now, I don't know if I do.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she breaks our silence.

"Your sister was the one who went through the red light."

It's not a question. But she wants me to say it. She needs that confirmation.

I nod, before whispering the answer.

"I have to go."

I don't even look up. Not when I hear her chair scrape back, the bell above the door ring, or the door slam.

The silence is deafening.

ooOoo

 **Welp! Guys, sorry – go enjoy last week's chapter again… My bad.**

 **Fic Rec – Marked by LyricalKris** \- Everyone is born with a unique tattoo. Whenever they fall in love, no matter the circumstances, that person's tattoo appears somewhere on their body. It's not such an easy thing to wear your heart on your skin. After all, love comes as she pleases. Unrequited. Uninvited. Undeniable.


	9. Chapter 9

**You guys… I am SO sorry! I got my chapters mixed up completely! Chapter 9 was posted instead of chapter 8… dammit!**

 **Go read, and please forgive me for my idiocy!**

 **We're at the prologue now folks… Present time and the ten year anniversary of the accident.**

 **Chapter 8**

 _ **Now…**_

 _ **Her POV**_

The sun sets low in the sky, with dark clouds looming on the horizon. A rumble of thunder makes me jump, and I pick up speed as I head toward my parents' grave. The cool air nips at my cheeks, a warning that summer won't be around too much longer.

I wrap my jacket tighter around my body. My hands are shaking, the dread already sitting deep in my stomach. I've been told this gets easier. But how could it? Sometimes I think I have it all together, like maybe I can carry on. I can be strong.

On other days the pain hits me like a bulldozer, as fresh as it was the day they died.

The rain starts to fall. It's only light, but I know it's only a matter of time before it gets stronger. I could almost laugh at the irony. That exactly ten years ago, on a very similar kind of night, my parents were snatched away from me.

There is no laughter, though.

Instead, the tears fall freely, and I do nothing to stop them.

I hate these kind of nights. The ones, where the sun hides from us, the darkness creeping in and taking over in mere moments. Dark clouds looming in the distance, teasing us, only hitting us at the last minute, giving us no time to prepare.

The kind of night that makes me think about when they left me.

I can almost hear the screech of the tires.

I can almost hear my dad's panic stricken voice, begging my mom to wake up, and then just waiting in the darkness until he followed after her.

I fall to my knees as I reach their headstones, the flowers slipping to the ground.

"Hi, Daddy. Hi, Mom." My fingers trace their names etched in the cold stone.

ooOoo

I don't know how long I sit there in the rain, not caring as the water seeps through my rain coat. I can feel my jeans getting damp, and my hair curling where the edges have blown out from under my hood.

Feeling utterly drained, I gather the flowers that I dropped, replace them with the old bouquet, and head home.

Every step I take tonight feels foreboding. Normally, coming here helps settle me; coming to see my parents isn't something I feel nervous about. I still feel sad. I'll never get over the grief of losing them so early, especially when I think of everything they missed: my high school graduation, my college graduation, me getting married, having kids.

All of it.

But there's something else that lingers tonight. Something… _more._

I quicken my pace as I approach the gates, desperate to leave before something bad happens, when I see _him._ The cloud that feels like it's been hanging over my head all day lifts, and I feel lighter, less weighed down, somehow. I can't help the small smile that spreads across my lips.

He's walking toward me with purpose, his whole body rigid, his hands gesturing in front of him, and his head down. Part of me likes that he's maybe talking himself into approaching me. That he feels as drawn to me as I am him. My body goes on high alert, and my smile widens at the sight of him.

I slow down and let him make his way to me, remembering how freaked he'd been when I spoke to him first. Now we've passed that barrier he seems a little more relaxed about talking to me. The memory makes me giggle, the sound reaching him and making him look up at me.

"Something funny?" he calls as he ups his pace, breaking into a slow jog.

I shake my head. "No, just remembering something."

He's panting slightly as he stops in front of me, his smile wide and dazzling. "Good memories?" He shakes his head, droplets of rain going in all directions.

I'm mesmerized by him. The way his smile reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the edges. The way his gaze roams me, waiting for my reply like it's the most important thing to him.

I nod, my grin matching his. "Yeah. Good memories."

I don't know much about him. I don't really know anything about him. All I know is he's lost someone. I don't know who he comes to visit, or how they died, but he's here almost as much as I am, so I know they must have been very close.

He doesn't offer the information, and I don't ask. If he's like me, he'll talk when he's ready.

We continue walking toward the exit, nothing but silence between us. We walk close together, leaving the tiniest gap between us, and I have to shove my hand in my pocket to keep myself from reaching for his.

Is it silly I'm _this_ attracted to someone so quickly?

When we get to the fork in the path, I turn to face him, gesturing in my direction. "I guess I'll..."

He nods. "Yeah." He shifts on his feet as if he wants to ask me to something.

And I don't know what it is, but I want him to ask me.

When the silence turns awkward, I try to put him out of his misery. "Umm—"

"Wait… wait, Bella." I turn around. "Would you like to get some coffee?"

ooOoo

Edward gives me the directions to a coffee shop not too far from the cemetery, and I meet him there. It takes me longer to park, and I find him waiting at one of the tables by the window.

"I thought it would be nice if we got to know each other." He smiles nervously, gripping his coffee. "You know instead of just 'hi' here and there."

I nod. "I agree."

Silence fall between us, and I'm at a loss of things to say to him. Do we talk about why we visit so much? Who we're visiting? Or is that too personal so soon?

Or is it perfect for us?

He decides for me. "I come to visit my sister."

My gaze meets his, and I'm met with the same grief deep in his eyes that I see in my own every time I look in the mirror. "I'm sorry."

"I come to visit my parents." I take a deep breath, willing the tears away. They fall anyway.

His face softens. Normally I hate the look people give me when I tell them. All the 'I'm sorries,' or 'I understand what you're going through.' They don't, and I hate that they think they do. It's nothing but pity; I don't need it and I don't want it.

But with Edward it's different. He understands.

"Was it sudden?" he asks, and I nod.

"Alice too. Sometimes I still can't believe she's gone. We were arguing—I can't even remember what about really, something stupid I think." He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. "She stormed out. An hour later I received a visit from the police—she'd skidded through a red light."

I gasp, leaning back in my seat. "She died in a car accident?"

He scrunches his eyes closed. "Yes," he whispers. "Ten years ago tonight."

 _ **His POV**_

I see her as she arrives at the cemetery, but something keeps me from going to her. I can see the tears from where I stand; she looks so lost, so... alone. Anything I say or do will only be intruding. As much as I want to be a source of comfort to her, I know better than most people how much she will want to be alone. I know how precious these moments are, and no matter how good anyone's intentions are, they won't be able to help. As a grumble of thunder sounds in the distance, I know no matter how bad the weather is going to get, she won't be leaving until she's ready.

Instead, I take shelter under a large tree and wait. Today I realize something I should've realized a long time ago; something my parents, my friends, have been telling me for years. Life is too short. Having Alice taken from us so soon, so suddenly, and far too quickly made them see this. I just took a little longer. And when I say goodbye to Alice today, I decide if I see Bella I will do more than smile and say hi, I will ask her to go for coffee.

The rain is light, much lighter than it was when I arrived earlier, but the air still feels heavy, like it can change at any moment. I don't think I'll ever look at days like these the same way ever again. The dark clouds always appear in the distance, and then they seem to follow us. Creeping, faster and faster, until they're here and the skies open. I hate them. I hate everything they resemble. Every memory they cause.

And I hate that I'll never escape them.

The fear will always be there; any time I have to go somewhere in weather like this. Even now, part of me wants to run to my car, and go home before the heavier rain comes back again. The dread is constant, settling in my stomach, lingering, until I make it home.

I look over in the direction of Alice's grave. My parents are there now, going later than they normally do, knowing I wanted to go alone earlier in the day. I yelled, screamed, and cried until there was nothing left. Today always hurts more than the other days. The memories a little fresher, the cuts a little deeper. I focus on trying to remember the good times we shared, instead of the bad memories that force their way forward, occupying every thought I have. As the darkness lifts, I feel myself look for Bella. Although my time at the grave is private, I want to see her. To see someone who knows. Knows how I'm feeling, who knows what I'm going through and why I still feel the need to yell, even after all this time.

My thoughts are interrupted when a movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I turn to see Bella walking slowly back to her car. Her jacket is a shade darker than when she arrived and looks to be stuck to her clothes, thanks to the rain, which although light is still persistent. All of a sudden, she glances down and walks faster, and I know if I don't ask her now, I never will.

I take a deep breath and walk toward her, my head down against the growing wind. "You can do this," I mumble. "It's just coffee."

Her soft laughter makes me look up and I find her watching me. The nerves settle a bit, replaced with something I can't put my finger on yet… but I like it.

"Something funny?" I ask as I pick up my pace.

She's still smiling, and it makes me smile. "No, just remembering something."

"Good memories?"

I shake my head, cringing when droplets of rain hit her, although her smile tells me she either doesn't notice or doesn't care. I can't help but stare; the way she's smiling at me, her eyes bright and alert, a polar opposite of the girl I saw arrive earlier.

She nods, answering my question. "Yeah. Good memories."

I want to know about the memories; who they're about, why they make her smile. But something stops me, knowing if she wants to tell me she will. As stunning as her smile is, there's something behind it, though; something which tells me she's experienced the kind of hurt I have.

I struggle to find the words as we walk toward the exit. The air between us feels different somehow. Even in the dampness from the lingering rain it's intense and I have to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from taking her hand in mine as I want to. I don't know what it is about this woman that has me on such a high frequency; I'm almost vibrating for her touch.

The gates appear quicker than I want, and I rack my mind trying to think of something to say. How I can ask her for coffee instead of letting her leave.

"I guess I'll…"

"Yeah…" _No!_

"Umm—"

"Wait… wait, Bella. Would you like to get some coffee?"

ooOoo

I arrive at the coffee shop first, waiting in my car until she pulls up behind me. Once I know it's Bella, I wait at the front door of the shop for her.

I can tell she's nervous by the way she approaches me. As though she wanted to say yes to me, but she's maybe doubting herself. She holds herself differently, wrapping her arms around her waist as if protecting herself from me.

I hold the door for her, and let her pick where we're sitting before I go and order for us. It's quiet due to the time of the night and I'm served quickly.

"I thought it would be nice if we got to know each other." I wrap my hands around my coffee, hoping the warmth will spread soon. "You know instead of just 'hi' here and there."

"I agree."

I hate the silence which falls between us, but I know why it's there. There's an elephant in the room, and if we're to overcome it, one of us needs to make the first move. I figure I asked her here, so I should be the one to go first.

"I come to visit my sister."

The words still hurt as they come out, but I'm glad I've told her.

"I'm sorry." When I look at her I don't see the sympathy I see in others, I see understanding.

She takes a shaky breath, a few silent tears falling, and I know she's about to open up to me. "I come to visit my parents."

She looks so upset, as if she's still trying to come to terms with it. And I have a feeling it's not something she was given time to wrap her head around beforehand. I know how much that hurts, and I hate she's experienced it. While she wipes away her tears, I wish I could comfort her in some way, help her in some way.

"Was it sudden?"

She sniffs and nods, wiping her sleeve under her eyes.

"Alice, too," I offer. "Sometimes I still can't believe she's gone. We were arguing—I can't even remember what about really, something stupid about a party, I think." I shake my head and take a sip of my coffee. "She stormed out. An hour later I received a visit from the police—she'd skidded through a red light."

I hear her gasp, and watch as her pale skin turns almost gray-like. "She died in a car accident?" Her voice is a whisper, as if it was a struggle to say the words.

"Yes," I whisper. "Ten years ago tonight."

She pushes her chair back, the scraping noise echoing throughout the quiet cafe. "I...I…" She stands up, almost knocking the table as she does, before she sits back down.

"Bella." I half-stand, holding the table before it falls over, and then sitting when she does.

"What… Did I say something?"

She looks as though she's seen a ghost. She's shaking her head, her wide eyes on me, but I can tell she's not actually seeing me. She's covered with a slight sheen of sweat, her hands shaking as she wraps them around her half-empty coffee. Her eyes glance to the door and then back to me, as if she's preparing to bolt.

"I'm a good listener, Bella. I can help. Even if you just want to—"

"My parents died ten years ago tonight. In a car crash. They were driving home when… when..." Her words are rushed, and cut off by a sob. She looks down at the table, but closes her eyes, scrunching them tightly closed as if trying to push out the images I know are dancing behind them. She opens them, looking at me, the hurt… the despair palpable as it fizzes between us.

Her words leave something lingering between us. Something that causes my heart to quicken, and not in the good way. Her eyes go between watching me, her coffee, and the door, and I know she feels it, too.

There was only one big car crash in the city that night. It made headlines for weeks: closed roads, emergency services on the scene for hours, and two families impacted by the loss.

I force myself to look at her. She's already watching me with a wary look on her face. She knows; she's just waiting for me to say it.

"Your parents died in a car crash? Ten years ago? Tonight?"

"Yes," she whispers.

Memories of that night flash through my mind like a movie played in slow motion. The argument we'd had before she stormed out. The thunder and lightning making the lights flicker in the house; the pounding on the door so loud it still haunts my dreams. And how I felt like I was moving in slow motion to the door, the feeling of foreboding dominating everything.

How everything went blurry as they told me.

Accident, they'd said.

Dead at the scene, they'd said.

Don't worry, she wouldn't have felt a thing.

Everything goes fuzzy, and I have to rest my head on my hands as it all comes rushing back; my memories swirling around with Bella's words. It all makes sense — no matter how much I don't want it to. I can feel Bella watching me, her unasked questions lingering between us. I want to tell her I still understand, but now, I don't know if I do.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she breaks our silence.

"Your sister was the one who went through the red light."

It's not a question. But she wants me to say it. She needs that confirmation.

I nod, before whispering the answer.

"I have to go."

I don't even look up. Not when I hear her chair scrape back, the bell above the door ring, or the door slam.

The silence is deafening.

ooOoo

 **Welp! Guys, sorry – go enjoy last week's chapter again… My bad.**

 **Fic Rec – Marked by LyricalKris** \- Everyone is born with a unique tattoo. Whenever they fall in love, no matter the circumstances, that person's tattoo appears somewhere on their body. It's not such an easy thing to wear your heart on your skin. After all, love comes as she pleases. Unrequited. Uninvited. Undeniable.


	10. Chapter 10

**For everyone who is still here, thank you. Sorry about the unexpected Hiatus – life went crazy – hopefully things are back to normal.**

 **Big hugs to Meg, MidnightCougar and Iris for their patience and help with this story. I would have given up by now if it wasn't for them.**

 **Chapter 9  
**

_**Her POV**_

I used to blame them. I even hated them for a while—for going out, leaving me, and then for never coming back. After that, I blamed myself—for not being with them, for wishing I were, so they didn't have to go through it alone. The guilt was overwhelming. There was nothing but anger, which I understand now was merely my way of dealing with it all.

But the blame did lie with someone, and it always will.

And now I know that person's name.

The information was easy to find online. I'd ignored it in the past; the person who killed my parents didn't matter to me. I didn't _want_ to know about them. I couldn't care less. She was just a name.

A faceless name who'd killed my parents.

Now I felt like I knew all about her. Alice Cullen was Edward's younger and only sibling. She was only a few years younger than him and, at the time of the accident, had passed her driving test a few months prior. She was close to my age, was finishing school, and had been accepted to two colleges, but had yet to make her decision to where she was going. Friends and family described her as bubbly, the life and soul of the party, someone who was involved in anything and everything. Reports stated she'd been spotted driving erratically close to where the accident happened yet was found with no alcohol or drugs in her system.

None of this new information made a bit of difference to me. I don't care how nice she was, or how friendly she was, or how much of a shock it all was when she died. It was her fault. Her life wasn't taken from her like my parents; she'll forever be responsible for the accident.

And I'll never be able to forgive her for that.

Knowing it was Edward's sister that went through the light and skidded into my parents hit me like a curveball. I'd spent years seeing Edward, and even without talking to him or even knowing his surname, I thought we shared something—shared this… this _pain_ , this hurt that nobody can even remotely understand unless they've been through it. Having Aunt Rose was different; she had Emmett to help her, and as much as she helped me, I still couldn't stop this feeling of being alone. When I saw Edward, he was always by himself, and I thought maybe he was just like me.

And for some reason, that didn't make me feel so alone.

When he told me his sister was the one who was driving the car, there was nothing I could do but run. He looked as devastated as I felt, but I couldn't stay. I'd felt the anger bubbling at the surface again—the blame that had to lie with someone—and if I stayed, I would've put some of that blame on him.

"It's not his fault," I murmur, sorting the flowers at my parents' graves. I'm sitting by their gravestone, trying so hard to focus on the good times. I don't want to be sad anymore. I'm sick of always feeling so sad. I hate feeling angry, or sad, or confused, or… so friggin' pissed off they left me so abruptly.

I try to remember how my dad's eyes danced when my mom laughed. How he told me her smile was what he first fell in love with. How, as I got older, I would watch them and hope to find someone who looked at me the same way my dad looked at my mom. How, when I was younger, my sides would hurt from laughing so much when he chased me around the garden to the big tree at the bottom.

The memories blur together, one by one, until they're all fused together and I'm crying and laughing at the same time. Remembering them this way is easier; it's what Aunt Rose told me they'd want. They don't want me to not live my life or to focus on how they were taken.

How am I meant to move on if I always focus on the past?

"Bella?"

I look over my shoulder to see Edward standing a few feet back. The early morning sun is low in the sky, a day full of promise of nice weather. The deep orange peeks over his shoulder and creates a dull glow, casting shadows over his face and preventing me from seeing him properly. He's shuffling from foot to foot, and I can feel his nervous energy from here. I can tell he wants to come closer but knows he shouldn't.

And I don't know if I want him to.

I turn back around and trace my fingers across my parents' names, my dad first and then my mom. My thighs protest as I crouch for longer than comfortable, but for some reason, I can't bear to leave them today. It hurts more than normal.

"I'd hoped the weather on that day would've put them off, you know? And now, days like that scare me so much I have to stay in the house." My hands shake, the burn in my legs turning into a searing pain, so I give in and sit down properly. I look down at the ground, watching his shadow as he continues to move from side to side. "I knew. The second I walked in that door, I knew something was wrong."

"Can I…? Can I sit?" His quiet voice carries in the wind, and I can only nod.

"I hate the rain, too," he admits. He picks up some turf at his feet and throws it to the side.

"What are you doing here, Edward?"

He sighs, but it's a few seconds before he speaks. "I wanted to see you. I wanted a chance to explain, a chance to apologize."

I feel awful. It's not like it's his fault, and I ran out of there so fast he probably had whiplash. "It was a shock, Edward. I had to leave; I needed to get some things sorted in my mind." I scoff and shake my head. "Not that it worked."

He remains silent next to me, but it's different. It almost feels like the air between us has been sucked away, and it automatically makes me feel on edge.

"What aren't you telling me?" I whisper. "What can there be left to say that's any worse than your sister killing my parents?"

He flinches, the pain evident on his face. It cuts at me, and I hate knowing my words cause him pain, but at the same time, I feel like he's holding something over my head—something which, when it drops, will have the power to ruin whatever this is between us. 

ooOoo

 _ **His POV**_

The words sit like ash in my mouth. I look at her; the red puffiness around her eyes, the tears already shed because of my news. The way she keeps delicately sniffling, dabbing a tissue under nose, and I wonder how I can hurt her even more.

I remember the first time I saw her; she was barely a blip on my radar, a face that started to become familiar when I visited the cemetery. I was so consumed with my own grief, desperate to let it take over and beat me, that I couldn't see something so beautiful in front of me. Then, I saw her with her family, how she'd smile with them. Sure, she'd lost someone—I could see that—but she was coping, and she gave me hope I could do the same.

I aimed to be the reason for one of those smiles.

"Edward?"

Her soft gaze brings me back to the present. Her eyes are on me, roaming my face as if she's trying to find the answer there. I wish I could tell what she's thinking… Does she feel as lost as I do? She looks past me, her eyes wide, and she reminds me of a rabbit caught in headlights.

I don't want to make her run.

"It's worse," I whisper, bringing my legs up against my chest and resting my forehead on my knees. "It's so much worse."

She shuffles closer to me, still keeping a slight gap between us.

"I need to know." She speaks quietly but surely. And she's right. "Tell me about Alice," she prompts. "Maybe that will help."

"You don't want to hear about her."

She's silent for a moment. "No," she admits. "I'm not sure I want to know anything about her, all things considered, but if it helps you, I'll listen."

I turn my head to the side so I can see her clearer, resting my cheek on my knees. She's smiling softly, a gentle encouragement.

"Why?"

She shrugs. "I don't even know. I just want to help."

I smile, but it's weak. She only wants to help me, and I'm about to hit her with another curveball.

"She was your sister…"

I nod. "Yeah. My baby sister, although she _hated_ it when I called her that."

"So, of course you did it more."

I chuckle. "Of course. She was my polar opposite, and we fought like cats and dogs, but we were still family, you know? When they told me… Man, it was like being punched in the gut. That constant feeling of… emptiness. The constant crack on my heart, like it hurt to even breathe. The way my stomach would lurch if I thought I heard her laughing on that damn phone of hers—"

Bella scowls, trying to quickly school her features.

"Are you okay?"

"I… Well, the police think she was distracted when she crashed."

She's obviously read the stories.

"Yeah, they think so."

"And what do you think?"

 _This is it._

She waits. She waits for me to say the words I don't want to. I think back to all the times I'd wished I hadn't fought with Alice, how I'd change it if I could. I read about her parents; people who'd always remained nameless until I learned they were Bella's parents. I learned Charlie and Renee had left behind a daughter who moved in with other family members. I never in a million years thought something as stupid as a little argument could impact our lives this way.

"I know why she was driving the way she was."

The silence lingers between us like a thread waiting to be cut. Stretched to the max, a pull in either direction could break it.

"It's my fault. Do you remember how I said we were arguing? Well, she was pissed." I shake my head, remembering how angry she was when she stormed out, how I'll never forget the look of pure hatred before she slammed the door on me. "The more I argued, the more wound up she became. And the more wound up she became, the funnier I found it. She stormed out of the house, and hours later, she was dead." I look up, and I'm met with a grief-stricken Bella. The memories, the emotions for both of us from that night, are back and are just as fresh as they were then.

I feel her move next to me, and I know she's leaving. I'm the reason her parents were taken from her so tragically and way before their time.

Instead, her leg presses against mine, and she loops our arms together, strengthening our connection.

"It's not your fault, Edward."

ooOoo

 **Fic Rec: MVP by AKABrattyVamp -** "Baseball is 90% mental, and the other half is physical." -Yogi Berra

Thank you for reading – I'm hoping this is me back to posting on Sundays! So see you next week!


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